On the Original Illustrations of Trollope's Fiction

The Claverings

Written 1864 (24 Aug - 31 December)
Serialized 1866 (February) - 1867 (May), Cornhill
16 Full-Page and 16 Vignette Chapter Headings by Mary Ellen Edwards
A number of the illustrations are co-signed H. Harrel, SC and M.E.E.,
the former was perhaps the engraver
Published as a book 1867 (April), Smith & Elder

Unless otherwise noted, the introductory descriptions by Sigmund Eisner (who used a copy
of the first edition in 2-volume book form, April 1867, by
Smith & Elder); commentary and analysis which follow the picture are by me. There is also commentary by David Christie (who had the 1994 Folio Society
edition of The Claverings), and Tony Prince who (like me)
used the Dover reprint of the illustrations as they
appeared in the Cornhill. I have reproduced 17 of the original illustrations.

Julia and Harry in garden; vignette for Chapter 1 ('Julia Brabazon'):
Source 1977 Dover reprint The Claverings as it first appeared
in the Cornhill, February 1866 - May 1867, p. 1. My comment: we see a full-bodied,
luxuriously dressed lady looking downward as a much more shabbily
dressed young man appeal to her; they stand against a garden-landscape
background. A small dog seen from the back looks on.

'"A puir feckless thing, tottering along like,--"': Source 1977
Dover The Claverings, facing p. 25. Reprinted Trollopiana,
42, p. 25. Trollope directed Edwards to depict this scene in the following
words: 'I would suggest that the subject for the [first] illustration
should be the entrance into the little parish church of Clavering of Lord
Ongar with Julia Brabazon as his bride. Page 24. 'A puir feckless thing
tottering along like' That should be the legend to the picture,
The Letters of Anthony Trollope, ed. N. John Hall, 2 vols
(Stanford, 1983), i, p. 321. Here is Sig's commentary from the 1st
edition:

The frontispiece is of the wedding of Julia and Lord Ongar. It is a
head-on shot of the bride and groom leaving the church together. Behind
them are a number of wedding attendants, about six crowded into the
picture. Julia is dressed in a long flowing gown, a necklace, and a
headdress that appears to be made of flowers. Over her head she has a
veil which flows over her bare shoulders. She is holding a bouquet in
her left hand. Her face looks a bit bored. A nearby bridesmaid appears
to have a similar costume without the bouquet. Lord Ongar does not look
like a man on his deathbed, as I was given to understand. His age could
be anywhere in his forties or fifties; his hair seems to have some gray
in it. He is dressed in a long frock coat and is carrying a tall silk
hat. He is looking at Julia with an appreciative glance. The caption,
however, tells it all: "a puir feckless thing, tottering along like--."
The caption comes from the quote out of the mouth of an old farmer's
wife at the end of Chapter Three. The rest of the quote is "not half
the makings of a man. A stout lass like she could a'most blow him away
wi' a puff of her mouth."

David Christie wrote about a later illustration of the same moment:
The illustrations to the Folio Society edition of The Claverings
1994, are by Alexy Pendle. The frontispiece is outside the church and, being a bear of very
little brain, I assumed until Ellen's post that Julia was accompanied by
Lord Ongar and have been somewhat baffled by the portrait. But of course
she is not yet married and is "being given away" by Sir Hugh.The latter
really is a marvellous depiction of an upper class, chinless, very
pompous,twit. Julia is in the virginal white which of course prompts me to
wonder whether such a nasty specimen as the good Lord would have insisted
on "trying before buying" (rude colonial person, shouldn't be on this list
!). It is a bit two dimensional but Julia is looking serenely upwards
towards heaven - Joan of Arcish ? This pix supports my thesis that Julia
spends much of her life playing roles and at the wedding she is...... I
dunno, Grace Kelly?

In the periodical issue the picture appeared at the
close of Chapter Three ('Lady Ongar'). Julia is now Lady Ongar.

Florence leaning on Harry's body; vignette for Chapter 4 ('Florence
Burton'). Source: Dover Claverings, p. 26. The picture is
intended as a parallel to Julia and Harry in the garden. Here Harry is
the taller, strong person; the top part of Florence's body leans on the top part of
Harry's; he looks down at her gravely and protectively.

The second illustration appears in Chapter Six ('The Rev. Samuel
Saul'). It is entitled "Mr. Saul Proposes." Mr. Saul and Fanny,
each under an umbrella, are shown walking in the rain and wind along
a narrow path. Fanny is wearing a hat over the top of her head, a
long flowing dress with a jacket, and
the dress is whipped around by the wind. Her shoes are high over the
ankles, and both of her hands are holding an umbrella. Mr. Saul has a
long buttoned coat which reaches to his knees and a top hat. His left
hand holds his umbrella, while his right hand holds a book close to his
coat so that it is protected from the rain. Mr. Saul is very thin with
a thin face which is exposed only from the nose on down. He is looking
down a Fanny, being much taller, and his eyes are covered by the brim of
his hat. The picture is placed right in the text describing the
proposal.

The emphasis is on comedy and caricature. Mr Saul has
no three-dimensional depth to him; the arm holding the umbrella is very
large; Fanny's dress is whirled about with a sense of wind. A great
deal of energy has been expended on getting the win into the picture
as well as the details of clothing and umbrellas.

Harry in Cecilia's nursery; vignette for Chapter 7 ('Some Scenes
in the Life of a Countess') . Source: Dover
The Claverings, p. 52. Cosy domesticity; again we
have Harry with a woman who looks away in a slighty flirting attitude as
she displays her children and nursey. Harry seen from the back

'A Friendly Talk'. Source: Dover Claverings, facing p.
59. Reprinted and discussed in N. John Hall, Anthony Trollope and
His Illustators, pp. 104-5. Hall says Edwards has caught Millais's
manner: Julia leans 'pressingly towards Harry and tells him of the
indignities she suffered for her late husband. Miss Edwards has caught
her earnest, intimatie attitude, and has given Harry a strained
appearance; he seems unwilling to look directly at his former lover --
he has not told her he is now engaged. The mood suits the text; the
details of the room are softened to emphasize the two characters who
are nicely individualised. Here is Sig's commentary:

The third picture is in Chapter Seven and is entitled "A Friendly Talk."
It shows the conversation between Julia and Harry in Chapter Seven.
Both are seated. Julia is leaning on a table looking at Harry. She is
dressed in a long flowing black garment and wears a white cap on her
head. Harry is stiffly seated in a chair facing the table. He is
wearing a suit with a long open coat revealing his vest, and he has a
small tie. His right hand is holding his stick, which is pointing at
his hat on the floor. The hat is upside down and has something that
looks like a handkerchief in it. His left leg is crossed over the
right, and his right hand is in his lap. The small finger of the right
hand has a ring. Harry's expression is very serious, and Julia's seems
to me to be a bit plaintive.

Lady Ongar looks as if she has just finishing crying; her
eyes are shadowed; she leans on one elbow on a table, gazing with an
earnest appeal into the eyes of the very young man meant to represent
Harry Clavering.

Harry driving Florence; vignette for Chapter 10 ('Florence
Burton at the Rectory'). Source: Dover Claverings, p. 77.
It's a small picture of a
young man leading a girl in a cart along the road.

The text is a
playful yet serious dialogue between the two lovers. Harry is all
interest as he looks down at the shy girl who is swathed in blankets;
she wears a hat with feathers which has seen better days. There are
birds flying over them as they ride along (a Millais motive in
Framley Parsonage). The background is lightly-etched picturesque.

David Christie wrote of Alexy Pendle's illustration: Florence is
welcomed at the rectory and to my mind she is very far from a
little brown mouse as her large eyes hold the promise of considerable
intelligence and self possession. Anyway as my mother-in-law used to tell
my wife "it is the quiet ones you have to watch !).

'Was not the price in her hand?'. Source: Dover The
Claverings, facing p. 101. Here is Sig's commentary from the
1st edition:

The fourth picture in in Chapter Twelve ('Lady Ongar Takes
Possession'). Julia is now examining her property, and the
caption is, "Was not the Price in her Hand?" The picture is
of Julia in her usual black, including this time her hat.
Her left hand extends from her widow's weeds, and the hand mentioned in
the caption is covered by a black glove. Her face is in profile, and the
one eye visible is opened wide as if she were looking over the farm,
which she is doing. The background is full and interesting. A thatched
building is to the right with a man sitting on a bench by it. Could
that be Mr. Button? A young woman is kneeling at his feet. She looks
younger than I think Mrs. Button was, but Mrs. Button is the only farm
lady mentioned in the text. Mr. Button has a knife in his left hand and
what looks like a piece of fruit in his right hand. Julia is standing
by a rustic fence with some lumber lying against it. To the extreme
left a wheel and part of a farm building appear. In the far left top
there is a building that might be the manor house. A number of birds
are circling that house.

To convey the poignancy of the text, Edwards tried
for high dark drama in the picture of the rich luxurious lady holdings
some coins in an outstretched hand; Mr Button is very old, looks bare
and pathetic as does the child. Here is the worldly woman who has
sold all in order to be admired by the world. And she finds herself
a pariah with farm workers who are realistically desperate.

This is a finely drawn picture
of a statuesque woman in a luxuriously man-folded dress, absorbed by her
letter. The window is left white to suggest the air outside; we see the
fragments of twigs from a bush through it. A heroine in reverie with
depth perspective and a sense of psychological presence the other
vignettes lacked. The problem is we have no sense how troubling
this letter is: it's from Pateroff who is trying to gain entrance
to the house where the 'unprotected' woman lives.

The fifth picture is in Chapter Fourteen ('Count Pateroff and
His Sister') and shows Harry and Count Pateroff at the Beaufort Club.
The caption is "Did he not bear false witness against her?" Both men
are seated at the corner of a dining table which is covered by a cloth
which reaches about to the floor. Count Pateroff (son of a father?) is
full faced on the right, and Harry is in profile on the left. Both are
dressed in formal go-to-the-club clothing. Harry is on the edge of his
chair with his left hand extended and his right hand resting on the arm of
his chair. Count Pateroff has his right hand on the table and his left
hand on his hip or pocket. He is distinguished by a handlebar grey
mustache. On the table may be seen behind Harry's extended left arm the
tops of several decanters, containing, I think, the certain vintage of
Moselle which was very famous at the Beaufort.

Tony Prince wrote as follows (he used the Dover): Trollope wrote:
"[Count Pateroff] was a fair man, with a broad face, and very light blue
eyes; his forehead was low, but broad; he wore no whiskers, but bore on his
lip a heavy moustache which was not grey, but perfectly white - white it was
with years of course, but yet it gave no sign of age to his face. He was well
made, active, and somewhat broad in the shoulders, though rather below the
middle height." (Dover ed., p. 109)

Now judging from the above I would expect him to be quite fit, and visually
striking, but in Edwards' disappointing illustration a couple of pages later
he appears to be a rather large, chunky fellow with a barber-shop moustache,
a small sprouting of hair below his lower lip and a receding hairline. Not at
all attractive in my estimation.

Vignette of a Women leaning over towards the fall, in an attitude of
deep misery, inwardly groaning to the point it takes over her whole
body; she is in black; vignette for Chapter 16 ('The Rivals').

Mary Ellen Edwards, Lady Ongar ,The Claverings

To the side of a figure of a woman on the right there is an
indication of a wall by lines down; the chair is ornate but small and
narrow, and cross-hatched dark and then light. Here is Julia
in her ripped-apart desolation, giving the impression of half or not
quite rocking or just about to rock, and yet sitting very still.
A good picture is hard to put into words. It's better than poignant,
better than downcast, it's suggestive of gripping. The lines that
open the chapter are what lead to it: "Lady Ongar sat alone, long
into the night..."

This is a moving picture of an older woman. Her face looks
downward, and is not filled in with lines, nor her widow's
white headpiece. What is genuinely expressive is the outline of the dress. It is a kind of shell.
The line from her head curls down past the chair to reach a bottom picture
of furniture, and then moves upwards light and then across to reach
one white hand which is folded over an elbow. Here is a felt presence.
I prefer this to the one of Lady Ongar holding the money in her hand as the former is a moral lesson (see above "Was not the price in her hand?").

'Captain Clavering Makes his First Attempt'. Source: Dover
The Claverings, facing p. 147. Reprinted and discussed Hall,
AT and His Illustrators, p. 105-8. Sig's commentary from
the 1st edition:

The sixth picture is in Chapter Eighteen and is entitled, as is the
chapter, "Captain Clavering makes his First Attempt." Archie is
standing on the left in profile, Julia is in the center in full face, and
Mme. Gourdeloup (fat wolf?) is on the right in profile. Archie has
light-colored trousers and a black coat. His stick is in his left hand
and his top hat in his right. He is standing with his right knee
slightly bent as is his neck. He looks as silly as he is. Julia is
dressed in black with a white cap. Her right elbow is bent with her
hand under her chin as if she were pondering the situation. Her left
hand supports her right elbow. Her expression is bland. Mme.
Gourdeloup is dressed in street clothes, having just arrived. Her hands
are extended slightly beyond her mantle. She is shorter than either of
the others, but she does not look as old as I imagined her. None of the
three shows any expression of pleasure, displeasure, or whatever.

I add that Madame Gordeloup is drawn with a body of wizened sharpness,
and acuteness. She has a curious daintiness in the way the body is held;
her face is arch and alert, like a bird. The dress too billows out just
so, and the pulled in carefully. This fits her. I reprint only the depiction of Sophie from this illustration:

A depiction of the same intense bird-like woman watching a
young man write a letter; vignette for Chapter 19 ('The Blue Posts').
Source: The Claverings, p. 154. Harry is writing
the letter to Count Pateroff with Madame Gordeloup looking on. Harry
is seen from the back, sitting on a chair, leaning over the desk as he
pens his letter. Madame's hair clearly wants combing; wisps ahd
curls stick out over bits of ribbon; one ribbon is tied round her head;
she wears a wrapper seems to drag down in an upside down
pear shape well outside from her body contours.

In Chapter 20 ('Desolation') there is a picture labeled, "The Lord
giveth, and the Lord taketh away." Lady Clavering here is attempting to
comfort her husband, Sir High, after the death of their only child. Sir
Hugh is seated in a chair with his arms folded and his eyes straight
down. He has mutton chop whiskers and a large mustache. He is dressed
in a frock coat with lighter-colored trousers and a strip going down the
side of his pantleg. Lady Clavering is dressed in the full gown of the
period. She is leaning over his head with her right hand on his arm.
She wears no cap, and her hair is light-colored and put into a bun at
the rear. A handkerchief appears to be on the floor.

The artist made Hugh too theatrical, with his arms
folded like those of a child, the face too grumpy. The figure of the
woman who represents Hermione is well done. Underneath
the full dress there are shoulders, there is a back, we feel her
legs. Her body is anatomically right. She has dignity; the face is
sad and appealing; she holds herself in a still solemn dignified
way with her hair thick yet held back in its rich bun; the line
given the shape of the figure as a whole expresses something like
desolation; the woman's arm on the man's is also tense. Perhaps the
artist is not thinking of our vulnerable clinging Hermione. The
background is expertly cross-hatched. There is depth and dimension
to this picture. It's not allegorical, not emblematic, refers to
no set of symbols, Christian or otherwise. Two people try
quietly to deal with death and fail to comfort one another.
There's nothing maudlin here: not even a coffin. It's not stagey.

Depiction of a group of people seen from afair standing
over a spot in a landscape framed by trees, vignette to Chapter
22 ('The Day of the Funeral'). Source: Dover The Claverings,
p. 181.

Mary Ellen Edwards, vignette to Chapter 13, "The Day of the Funeral," Chapter 22,
The Claverings

The figures though
are not tightly bunched together, but instead have little spaces
between, suggesting a slow walk. The grave is indicated by
a tipped to the side cross filled in with cross-hatching;
it is tottering slightly in a freshly dug mound beneath.
The tree which acts as a frame for the picture forms a kind of
arch, slightly gothic at top, so we look at the people as in a
church window, the cross on the horizontal width at its bottom.
The tree may be said to droop over the two sides of the picture
as it arches up to the top. The falling line of the branches on
the left side are right, so too the dispersed branches reaching
up to the top of the picture on the right. The leaves
have that pretty wispy quality; there is another
suggestion of a cross in them towards the right top
corner of the picture. This is another superb vignette.

'"Harry", she said, "there is nothing wrong between you and
Florence?"' Source: Dover The Claverings, facing p. 188.
Here is Sig's commentary from the 1st edition:

The second picture in this week's instalment, '"Harry', she said,
'There is nothing wrong between you and Florence?'", is in Chapter 22
('The Day of the Funeral'). The speaker is Fanny, and she is speaking
to Harry. Fanny is comfortably reclining in a chair. She wears a full
white gown, and there is some knitting or something like that in her
lap. Her fingers together, and she is turning her face to her right to
look at Harry, who is standing at the left of the picture. His left leg
is bent around his right, and his left shoe is raised from the floor so
that only the toe touches. His hands are in his side pockets. His face
is in profile, and again we can tell nothing of it. A window is between
them. The text tells us that Fanny is concerned and that Harry is
trying to be nonchalant. Fanny's concern does not appear in the
picture. She could be asking about the price of eggs. Hary's feigned
nonchalance appears only in the position of his legs and hands.

Depiction of a woman looking down at a young man; vignette for
Chapter 25 ('What would Men Say of You?'). Source: Dover The
Claverings, p. 208. Harry is hiding his head as
he presses his face downwards on the back of a chair he sits on, with his
legs folded away from us. He half-kneels on the floor. Julia is
depicted standing up. Her stance does not at all evoke a young woman
who is desperate and has convinced herself she loves this man because
she needs him. It is rather that of a disapproving matron or
headmistress. Her arms are decorously folded one over the other to
criss-cross beneath her waist. The frontal part of her garment
has a funny effect; it looks like her back and consequently the head
seems on backwards since it faces almost frontally, almost because
the head is head stiffly to the side as she looks at the young man.
It is a pompous still pose. The dress has been worked on (as it has
in most of the other pictures); it is rich in folds. Mary Edwards
was too embarrassed both by the vulnerability of the heroine and the
indignity of the hero in this scene. She couldn't let herself get
that raw.

'"Lady Ongar, are you not rather near the edge?"'. Source: Dover
The Claverings, facing p. 231. Reprinted and discussed Hall,
AT and His Illustrators, pp. 105-7; see also frontispiece for
Corrupt Relations: Dickens, Thackeray, Trollope, Collins and the
Victorian System, edd. Richard Barickman, Susan McDonald, and Myra
Stark (New York: Columbia Univ, 1982). Sig's commentary from the
1st edition:

Volume Two of the 1867 first edition of The Claverings
begins with a frontispiece which shows Julia Ongar sitting on a rock
by the sea and Count Pateroff standing behind her. The caption is,
"Lady Ongar, are you not rather near the edge?" The scene appears in
Chapter 27 (Chapter 3 in my Volume Two). Julia is visiting the Isle
of Wight accompanied only by the devoted Sophie Gordeloup. Count
Pateroff has discovered where she has been hiding and has followed
her, again with the intention of asking for her hand (and money). She
has gone down to the seaside to think over her situation, and Count
Pateroff has trailed her there. The picture shows her dressed in a
black cloak which hides all of her except her left arm and her face.
She is wearing a sort of wedge-shaped hat. Count Pateroff is
standing. He is dressed in a frock coat and tall silk hat. His right
hand hangs by his side, and his left hand is tucked between two of his
coat buttons. He is looking down on her so that his hat covers his
eyes, leaving only his nose and mustache visible. Birds and a tiny
sail may be seen in the background. She is very close to the edge
with sea under her and behind her:

Mary Ellen Edwards, "Lady Ongar, are you not rather near the edge?", Chapter 27,
The Claverings

This is a striking picture. Perhaps the characters are
made too elegant. Lady Ongar's hat makes a neat triangle over her
head; it is echoed in her triangular face (a shape which we saw in the
first large illustration of the wedding and the rubric of Harry taking
Florence in the cart to the rectory); the triangular face is reversed
in the dark cape which flows down from Lady Ongar's neck in an upside
down through whose frame we shee Lady Ongar's clearly expensive blouse
(lots of folds) and richly depicted skirt. This concern with triangle
we find in Count Pateroff: his mustache, the disposition of his jacket
over his shirt, his left hand tucked into said jacket, and the left
arm, too short (the perspective is wrong) gets nowhere near Lady
Ongar. His top hat is very fancy.

Picture of man reaching down to dust one of his shoes with a
handkerchief; vignette for Chapter 28 ('What Cecilia Burton Did for her Sister-in-Law').
Source: Dover The Claverings, p. 234.

Mary Ellen Edwards, Theodore Burton ,The Claverings

The comedy
is good. The man is stiff to the waist and gingerly applies a white
clothe to a shoe which is slightly too far away for him to reach unless
he were to bend more. He seems awkward, unwilling to bend. He holds a
top hat with the other hand. He has an intent expresssion as
he stars at the boot. To the right is his coat on a rack. He's
a careful sort. It's funny.

The second picture is in the chapter "How Damon Parted from Pythias." A
very angry looking Sophie is seated and glaring at Julia, whose back is
to us. Sophie's face is what I as a child always called a hatchet face.
It is in profile and shows a sharp nose and a turned-down mouth. Her
right arm is on the arm of the chair as if she were about to rise. Julia
is dressed in black, and over her shoulder one can see the candle that
she has taken to light her way to bed. There is no sign in the picture
of the table with the twenty-pound note on it.

Picture of a young men intent upon a paper he means to write something
on; vignette for Chapter 31 ('Harry Clavering's Confession'). Source: Dover
The Claverings, p. 260.

Mary Ellen Edwards, Harry writing his confession ,The Claverings

Harry looks weary. He
holds his quill above the paper and chews on its end. His brow is furrowed. His face
which we see from the side looks tense. His hair looks uncombed. He is
not a happy person. The wastepaper basket by his side is a nice touch.

'Florence Burton Makes up a Packet'. Source: Dover The
Claverings, facing p. 175. Reprinted and discussed Hall AT
and His Illustrators, pp. 105-9. Sig's commentary from the 1st
edition:

In Chapter Thirty Two ('Florence Burton Packs Up a Packet'), we see
a picture of Florence Burton packing up her packet. She is seated
forlornly in a chair with her arms crossed over
what may be a book or letter. She is gazing sadly at the floor, and we
see her face in profile. Her dress is white a flowing, and the chair is
one of those where the arms begin a complete circle but stop short in
order for the chair to be sat in. There's a name for this kind of
chair, but I forget it. To her right is an open box with a handle
pictured on one side. It contains what are apparently letters, and some
more letters are crumpled on the floor.

The young woman looks just like Celia Johnson (the British Actress
who always played virtuous but passionate heroines, e.g, in
Brief Encounter with Trevor Howard)! The type has existed for over a century; she
was
very popular in World War Two movies (she played Noel Coward's wife
in In Which We Serve. Hall says Florence has 'an attractive face',
and 'well-drawn figure, with strength in her neck and shoulders'.

Small picture of a clergyman standing stiffly as a young man
who is seated facing him attempts to reason with him; both have looks
on their faces which suggest discomfort; vignette from Chapter 35 ('Mr
Saul's Abode'). Source: Dover The Claverings, p. 285. Reprinted
in C. P. Snow, Anthony Trollope: An Illustrated Biography,
p. 99. My comment: it's too sketchy, and crudely drawn. The engraver
may be at fault. At any rate it looks like a cartoon.

'Husband and Wife'. Source: Dover The Claverings,
facing p. 301. Reprinted and discussed in Hall, AT and His
Illustrators, pp. 112-13. Sig's commentary from the 1st edition:

The second picture in this week's instalment appears in Chapter
Thirty Five ('Parting'). Hugh, who will shortly
leave on his voyage with Archie and Jack Stuart, is saying goodby to
Hermione before going to bed. The text reads, "'Good-by, Hermy,' he
said, submitting himself, with the candle in his hand, to the inevitable
embrace." Hermione in white is embracing Hugh, who has a candle in his
visible hand. the candle is in a holder. He is dressed in black and is
looking at her through the embrace. His clothes are black. A newspaper
lies on the floor, and a couple of chairs are dimly visible in the dark
background.

This is one of the best of the original illustrations
of Trollope's novels. It deserves to be better known. I discuss and
reprint it in my Trollope on the Net. Here I'll say I find
a poignant dignity given Hermione once again (as when she attempted to
comfort Hugh at the time of their boy's death). Her arm surround
Sir Hugh's neck in just the position Trollope describes. We have
the candle, the fallen newspaper, two expensive-looking chairs.
She looks into his eyes and demands he look down. He does not
resist, but while he bows his head slightly, yhere is a strained
irritated expression in his face. The two are in a space
made by filled-in darkness. Her hair is rich but tamed into a bun
at the nape of her neck. Her dress flows like water, like tears.

Depiction of woman standing before a door whose knocker is
well above her head; she gingerly hits the door with it; vignette
for Chapter 37 ('What Lady Ongar Thought About It'). Source: Dover
The Claverings, p. 310:

Another superb small
picture. It is expressive of a single mood or emotion and the sharp
outline of the figure is essential to that expressiveness. The
success may come from our not seeing the face. Before this large
imposing door Mrs Cecilia Burton seen from the back seems small as
she stands on the threshold. One thinks of how hard it still is
for the relatively powerless and lower-on-the-particular-totem-pole person
to cross thresholds especially when some "boss" or the professor or
some authority figure is on the other side. The knocker is slightly too
high up. Her arm reaches up and the tips of her fingers seem just
barely to knock at it. She holds her dress slightly higher on one
side than the other with her other hand. She seems to hesitate slightly.
Her hair is in a bun or double-bun sort of affair. She has a plain
jacket on, slightly wrinkling over from the back. Here is Cecilia
braving the world for Florence. The line that is good is
the one that shapes the dress and figure. It is a kind of upside-down-pear once again;
it seems to slightly bow out, go down, sweep underneath and then up again
straight.

The illustration for Chapter Thirty-Seven or Vol. II Ch. XIII ('What
Lady Ongar Thought About It') is entitled "A Plea for Mercy." It shows the
conversation between Cecilia Burton and Lady Ongar, in which Cecilia is
asking Julia to take her claws out of Harry. In the picture Cecilia has
just risen from her chair and is facing a seated Julia. Cecilia has a
black cloak over her dress, which is drawn with vertical parallel lines
for shading. She wears a small headpiece attached under her chin. Her
right hand is open and facing Julia in an attitude of supplication.
Julia is dressed in white with a chain over her breast and another
higher up holding a locket. Her hands are folded, but one can see
bracelets on both wrists. Her face is expressionless, but her eyes are
wide opened and fixed on Cecilia. A table with a vase is behind Julia,
a picture is on the wall, and part of the chair from which Cecilia just
rose is visible.

Lady Ongar looks up half-afraid of Cecilia. In Trollope's
text she attempt to intimidate Cecilia; here she looks regretful and half-
ashamed. Cecilia Burton and outfit are lovingly drawn.

Small picture of a woman dressed for outdoors coming into a
room and disturbing another woman who sits at a writing table; vignette
for Chapter 40 ('Shewing How Mrs Burton Fought Her Battle'). Source:
Dover The Claverings, p. 336. My comment: another very
poorly engraved drawing; Mrs Burton is a chubby doll in a cartoon.
Florence's anxiety is conveyed, but the figure is not fully-lined
out.

'The Sheep Returns to the Fold'. Source: Dover The
Claverings, facing p. 346. Reprinted and discussed in Hall
AT and His Illustrators, pp. 108-13. Sig's commentary from
the first edition:

Mary Ellen Edwards, Harry and his mother, Chapter 41, The
Claverings

The second picture in this week's instalment is given the
caption of the chapter title ('The Sheep Returns to the Fold').
Harry is in bed, and his mother has just entered the room with the parcel. Harry is very
unshaven. He
wears a white nightdress, and the bedding is also white. His hair is
disheveled. Mrs. Clavering is dressed all in black and is wearing a
hat. She holds the parcel in her hand. The remains of Harry's
breakfast are on a table by the bed. Harry, who leads a hard life, has
just had breakfast in bed.

I would compare this one to Marcus Stone's 'Only the
Vagaries of an Old Woman' for He Knew He Was Right (see below
Annotated Commentary 5 and my Trollope on the Net, Chapter
Three. It is not quite as successful because Harry is made to shy
away; the intensity of expressive longing on Dorothy's face and
the hesitant anxiety and regret on Aunt Stanbury's face is replace
by a mother who feels confident of herself. However, the depiction
of the bedroom, sudden waking, reverie disturbed and disquiet through
the lean drawn face of Harry and the shadows surrounding him is effective.

Small picture of two men walking through London streets; vignette
for Chapter 43 ('Lady Ongar's Revenge'). This is Harry walking along
with Theodore Burton to Onslow Crescent. The dark colours of the men's
outfits have life. It serves as an introduction; Harry is brought
back into comfortable path where respectability will control him.

'Harry sat between them, like a sheep as he was, very meekly'. Source:
Dover The Claverings, facing p. 362. Reprinted and discussed
in Hall AT and His Illustrators, pp. 111-13. Sig's
commentary from the 1st edition:

In this full-page illustration, we see Harry sitting with Florence
and Cecilia. The caption is "Harry Sat Between Them Like A Sheep As He
Was, Very Meekly." Cecilia and Florence are indistinguishable. One is
dressed in white and the other in black. Cecila (I think it is she) carries a peacock fan and is
looking down. Florence, in black, is looking at Harry. Harry himself
looks like a 1920s matinee idol. That is, he has vapid good looks.

See my long quotation of Margaret Oliphant's disdainful
response to the sheep Harry who ricochets between all these women, and
her refusal to believe these women would value, much less Florence freely
forgive him. Perhaps we are supposed to see the uncomfortable weakness
and passivity of the young man. Cecilia does look quietly sexy, like
the cat who swallowed the canarie. On the other hand, Florence is
once again given dignity and intelligence. Her expression is one
of controlled expressionlessness. See my quotation of Robert Polhemus's
cynical assessment of her vicarious motives in his The
Changing World of Anthony Trollope in my Trollope on the
Net, Chapter Five.

Small picture of small woman holding her stomach with one
hand and hiding her face with the other, as she leans down and
subsides onto a divan. A man stands by the door. Vignette for
Chapter 46 ('Madame Gourdeloup Retires from British Diplomacy').
Source: Dover, Claverings, p. 387. My comment: Edwards
has interpreted Sophie far more sympathetically and sentimentally
than our group did when we read the book together. She looks
sincerely in the grip of some loss. The Count is too much of
a cartoon figure. Perhaps 19th century readers identified with
Sophie more than 20th century readers allow themselves to.

'Lady Ongar and Florence'. Source: Dover The Claverings,
facing p. 405. Reprinted and discussed in Hall, AT and His
Illustrators, pp. 108-9. Here is Sig's commentary from the 1st
edition.

The last illustration of the novel (in Chapter Forty Seven,
'Shewing How Things Settled Themselves at the Rectory') shows Julia
surrendering to Florence. The caption is "Lady Ongar and Florence."
They are out of doors with bushes or trees for a background. Julia is
all in black, and Florence has a decorated coat on over her white dress.
Julia is semi-hugging Florence. Julia's face is in profile, and her nose
is almost at Florence's right eyebrow. Florence is expressionless; her
eyes seem to be half closed:

This is another of the finer illustrations among the
earliest to Trollope's novels. Edwards illustration brings us
back to her first vignette as the two women stand against a thicket
of bare brambles which take up three-quarters of the picture space.
The swirls of the branches are repeated in the designs of Florence's
jacket. Julia towers over Florence, and is draped in black.
The mood of the picture is chill and quiet (pp. 502-7). One should
compare this with Habl˘t Browne's depiction of 'Priory Ruins' for
Can You Forgive Her? (see Annotated Commentary 2). What
is most revealing is Trollope choose just these same scenes and
they are similarly depicted.